


Thrust Exercises

by Writernon



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Community: cabinpres_fic, Dom/sub Undertones, Held Down, Love, M/M, Orgasm, POV Martin Crieff, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 03:20:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writernon/pseuds/Writernon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "Martin likes to be held down while being vigorously and very thoroughly fucked. He enjoys being able to feel his partner's strength and power as they pin his wrists to the bed and enthusiastically ride his arse until he's cross-eyed and boneless with pleasure."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thrust Exercises

**Author's Note:**

> I first posted this [here](http://cabinpres-fic.dreamwidth.org/6034.html?thread=10966418#cmt10966418) on the CabinPres_Fic Meme Dec. 23, 2012

Martin feels the bones in his wrist grinding together in Douglas's grip. He turns his head to catch his breath, face down in the pillow feels good but breathing is becoming more important as he needs air to gasp and whimper.

The grip on his wrists shifts to a single hand, and Douglas's full weight presses him down into the hotel bed. He moans, feeling Douglas's cock sliding between his arse cheeks, slick, not penetrating yet. Douglas uses his free hand to yank the pillow out from under Martin's face with a growl. 

Martin breathes. "Please, please." Douglas presses harder against him, leaning down to bite the back of Martin's neck. He feels Douglas's slick bare length rut against him, sliding across where he wants it most, one, two, three, before Douglas leans back, weight and length disappearing. Martin whines.

"I don't think you want it badly enough yet." Douglas's voice has gone low and rough, Martin can only think what he looks like, mouth kiss-bitten, hair a wreck, kneeling between Martin's spread legs like a genuflection.

Martin pulls against the grip on his wrists just to feel the grip tighten. "Please," he says softly, gently.

"Oh no. Not nearly enough." The familiar smell of fresh lubricant makes Martin's cock twitch against the sheets. "You'll have to do better than that."

Fingers, thick and nimble, slide slickly between his cheeks. Martin holds very still, thighs shaking as they circle the place he wants them. 

"You'll have to do _much_ better." The fingers stop, pressing but not pushing.

Martin pulls against the grip on his wrists to push back against those fingers, soft whimpers escaping him as his trapped arms keep him from pushing back as hard as he wants to, but with a slick noise, the fingers penetrate him shallowly. 

Douglas doesn't ease his grip on Martin's wrists. "Still not convinced." His fingers move in a slow twisting stroke, not going deeper, but sliding along the outer rim of muscle as Martin shakes and gasps open mouthed into the bed. "Convince me."

Whining now, "please, please" Martin pushes back, pulling at the hand trapping his wrists, he might have bruises, he doesn't care. The strong grip doesn't falter but Martin's desperate tugging against the hold shifts his pinned hands back enough that he can push, and push, and the fingers pass the second ring of muscle.

"Better." The fingers slide, deeper in, twisting around, pressing the muscles into submission.

"Oh god, please. Fuck me, please!"

Douglas's weight leans over him again and his breath ghosts past Martin's ear. "Maybe," he purrs, "but you have to tell me Martin, how," the two fingers are joined by a third, "you," twisting slide, deeply in, out, then in again, "want it."

Martin gasps down into the mattress, breath coming out in a barely audible keen as he pulled against the grip, trying to push himself onto the teasing fingers.

"I'm not hearing any begging, perhaps Sir isn't up for this tonight?" Douglas presses his fingers in as hard as they'll go, rubbing inside until he finds that bump.

Martin jerks, his vision flashing behind his closed eyes, and he babbles. "Oh god oh god please now, fuck me hard, make me feel it, hold me down, make me yours, please god oh god."

Martin can hear Douglas smirking in his voice. "Much better." The fingers disappear and Martin whines at their loss. "Roll over."

Martin opens his eyes and blinks up at Douglas over his shoulder, panting a little, trying to process as Douglas releases his hands.

Douglas slides a condom on and smiles down at him much like a wolf might smile at a lost lamb. "On your back. I want to see your face."

Understanding reaches and Martin pulls his legs back to roll over. As he settles, Douglas grabs his knees, keeping him exposed. "Can you keep your legs like that?"

"Y-yes."

"Can you keep them like that without using your hands."

Martin's breath quickens. "Yes. Yes."

"Good." Douglas takes Martin's hand by the wrist and presses it into the bed above his head. Meeting his eyes, Douglas lines up his cock with his other hand and presses in, his full weight settling over Martin.

Martin's head rolls back against the mattress as Douglas's cock pushes home, Martin's free hand fluttering up to stroke against Douglas's chest, nipple, side. Douglas, settling into position, takes Martin's traveling hand and presses a kiss to the palm before pinning it down against the mattress at the wrist, just above the height of Martin's head.

"Ready?" asks Douglas, voice rough.

Martin nods, breathing short, pitched breaths.

The first full thrust is slow, but Martin knows it's only the beginning. The stroking of Douglas's fingers has made the tight skin over his loosening ring of muscles sensitive to the feel of every incremental inch going in, then out. He tucks his knees up under Douglas's arms, keeping himself open and exposed for this, and Douglas rests some of his weight on Martin's folded legs as he begins to build speed.

The first hard thrust always catches Martin by surprise, jolting him up the bed, held down by his wrists and Douglas' weight, but still sending a intense shockwave through him that tingles in his groin. His eyes fly open and his head snaps back into the mattress and for the first few hard thrusts, he doesn't breathe because it's so good, so good.

"That's why I want you on your back," Douglas growls, thrusting. "So I can watch that perfect cock-sucking mouth pop open and your eyes go wide."

Martin breathes, gasping, a wordless moan sliding out of him. 

"I always want you on your back." Thrust. "You should always be on your back for me," thrust, "so I can put that look on your face over," hard thrust, bed frame rattles, "and over again."

"Please" Martin gasps, "I want-" The next thrust forces Martin's breath from him, Douglas's weight pushing air from his lungs in a series of pornographic grunts. "I. Want. That."

Douglas bites down on his words now, brow furrowing to focus on hammering his cock into Martin as deep and hard as he can. The bed frame slams against the wall, a passionate metronome.

Martin's leaking cock bounces between their stomachs, not getting much direct contact but the feeling of Douglas' strength and passion holding him pinned to the bed can sometimes be enough. Martin twists his wrists caged and slick with sweat as he writhes, the force of Douglas' thrusts sending shockwave after shockwave of delicious aching throbs through him. His head rolls back against the bed and he's floating, flying, knowing he is safe and so loved in Douglas' grip.

He can feel Douglas's grip shifting, like he's trying to move both Martin's hands to one grip, but Martin catches Douglas's hands and threads their fingers together.

Douglas, breath gusting with every increasingly erratic hard thrust, meets Martin's eyes before wordlessly glancing down to where Martin's cock bounces between them, trailing a slick patch on Martin's trim stomach.

Martin shakes his head, moaning in bursts as Douglas thrusts. "Like this," he gasps, gripping Douglas's hands tighter.

Eyes flashing, Douglas leans forward with the next thrust and Martin leans up to crash their mouths together, biting and gasping, air shared between them. The new position pushes Martin's legs further out and traps his cock between his own pre-come wet stomach and Douglas's. Throwing his head back with a silent shout, Martin feels his cock pressed slickly between their stomachs, sliding with every thrust, bare skin on bare skin on bare skin. 

"Oh! Oh! Oh god! Oh Dou-" Martin says before his breath and body lock up and he is coming, sparks shooting behind his eyes, a guttural moan like a lost soul's last cry pulled out of him.

Douglas manages, "Beautiful. Love," before he catches Martin's gasping mouth again, clenches their hands tightly, thrusts twice more hard enough to make the bed frame dent the wall and comes with a shivering shout. 

Martin in his haze of throbbing waves feels Douglas's cock pulse deep inside him. He holds one of Douglas's hands in his loosening grip and disentangles the other to pull Douglas in by the back of the neck and hold him in the kiss, allowing his own legs to push out and wrap around the back of Douglas's.

They lay together like that, foreheads pressing when the need for air becomes too great, catching their breath, sweat and come slickly rubbing between them.

"Good?" Douglas manages after a floating while. 

Martin can feel Douglas softening inside him, wishes he didn't have to pull out, that they could lay here like this, with Martin filled by Douglas, surrounded by Douglas, held down, caged, protected and loved by Douglas all the time. Forever.

"Good," Martin responds in another breath. "Love you."

Douglas rubs a thumb across Martin's wrist. "Love you too."


End file.
